


i've got the strangest feeling(this isn't our first time around)

by violetnovice (orphan_account)



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/F, Supersize the fuckin ATMOSPHERE im goin to jupiter fueled by my lack of sleep, and swearing, cigarettes are smoked and so is weed, copious swears, lexa is sort of max clarke is sort of chloe, literally only bc Nicks was so supportive and Dovey reccomended me That One Song, please don't read if you aren't comfortable w that, raven reyes protection squad, the story will be Different and so will be The Ending That Must Not Be Named, there are several instances of death, uh im only posting this to kick my edgy ass into shape and be motivated to write more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8063629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/violetnovice
Summary: Lexa, five years of guilt, one Clarke Griffin, and too much time warping for their own good.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Past Lives by BØRNS

Lexa meets Clarke at school, on the first day of first grade.

She is six, and nervous. The school is huge and unfamiliar compared to kindergarten. Anya, a fifth grader, waves at her before going to play with the other big kids. Lexa hopes that her sister might come to play with her, but something tells her that Anya is already busy with her friends. Lexa tugs nervously at the hem of her shirt(her favourite, the grey one with a bright green leaf on it over where Anya said her heart was), unsure of what to do during recess. She scuffs the blacktop of the playground with her sneakers and wonders if she could ask someone to play with her.

 

"Hi." A voice startles Lexa. Lexa turns around, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. 

A girl, around Lexa's age, with blonde hair and really blue eyes, is looking at Lexa seriously. 

"What's your name?" She asks. 

"Lexa." It comes out nervous, unsure, but the girl smiles widely anyways. 

"Awesome! My name is Clarke. With an E." Clarke with an E sticks her left hand out, and Lexa has to take a few awkward, fumbling seconds to retract her right hand and offer her left hand to shake properly.

"Hi, Clarke. Do you want to play?" Clarke nods enthusiastically. 

 

They're friends after that. 

 

Clarke only lives a block away from Lexa, and Lexa begs Indra to let her go over for playdates. Indra insists on meeting Clarke's parents before letting Lexa go over, however. An afternoon is spent fidgeting through dinner, talking under her breath to Clarke and frowning when Anya pokes her. 

 

Jake likes Lexa instantly, from the moment the nervous six-year-old knocks on their door and asks to see Clarke. Clarke leads Lexa through a tour of her house, which is completely different from Lexa's own, lots of bright colours and mildly disciplined chaos. There are photos hung everywhere on the walls, some of them slanting dangerously. Abby, Jake, and Clarke beam out from them, caught in time. Small tokens and souvenirs are carefully arranged along the fireplace mantle. It isn't a bad different, Lexa decides. The house is open and airy, and Jake's music is almost always playing from an old cassette player.

 

Lexa finds a happy routine, walking to Clarke's on weekends. She hums slightly as she walks, tiptoeing over sidewalk cracks, already anticipating the games she could play with Clarke. She's completely unaware of Anya watching her make her way down the street safely with hawkish eyes.

 

(Somehow, Clarke convinces Abby that she could spend a weekend at Lexa's, and when Clarke takes in the contrast of Lexa's house, she is a bit speechless. Lexa's house is full of rich wood undertones, walnut and mahogany prominent shades of brown throughout the house. Thick, shaggy rugs of varying reds and oranges are laid in the living room, the legs of long couches sinking into the rugs. The walls are free of ornament, but there are small, circular tables placed throughout the house. There are vases of flowers and one of Anya's trophies from track meets on the tables. Anya, head appearing from the kitchen doorway, glances at them before continuing to crunch her snack of baby carrots.

"Wow," Clarke breathes, and Lexa feels her heart beat rabbit-quick at the awe in her voice.)

When they're older, a whole year older, Clarke is eager for adventure and begs Lexa to explore. They start sneaking off to the lighthouse. Here, they take turns pretending to be leaders of fearsome armies, defending their tower from imaginary enemies. They duel using branches and giggle, making games of Skaikru and Trikru. People they know are caught up in their fantastic tale, woven into the inconsistent plot, becoming allies and foes. Mock betrayals and alliances and laughter fill their afternoons.

 

Later in the afternoons, when they're tired and trying to catch elusive breath, they collapse on the bench besides the lighthouse and dream of sailing away.

 

Lexa stares over the water dreamily, watching the sun bounce off the choppy blue. Together, they make plans for building a giant, flying plane-boat that would fly on the power of hugs. Lexa had wanted a normal boat, and Clarke had wanted a flying rocket, so this was their compromise. They wouldn't have to worry about getting money because in the future they could sell their amazing idea of making a machine run on hugs. They'd touch down at various ports, watching everyone look at their flying plane-boat with envy, and pick up supplies before sailing away into the clouds to catch falling stars.

 

Lexa describes all this vividly, and Clarke believes in this escape wholeheartedly.

(Clarke catches herself watching Lexa talk a lot. Lexa talks with her hands and her whole face lights up sometimes, and Clarke thinks it's pretty fantastic. Fantastic is a new word, Clarke learned it from Anya. Fantastic is Clarke's new favourite word since it applies to a lot of things. 

 

It applies to that excited feeling Clarke gets when she hears the ice cream truck, and it applies to when she grabs Lexa's hand and tug so they can catch up to the truck since Lexa's hand feels good and warm in her own. Fantastic also applies to inviting Lexa to sleepover for the first time and waking up to specialty Griffin pancakes and bacon courtesy of Jake.

 

Fantastic is especially the way Lexa smiles when her vanilla ice cream cone smears on the side of her mouth and Clarke wipes it off for her with the pad of her thumb, and it applies to the sour-sweet taste of a melting popsicle that Clarke is careful not to drip on her clothes.

 

Fantastic also applies to Lexa's eighth birthday party, when Lexa offers her a slice of cake immediately after Lexa carefully cuts away her own. Clarke beams and Lexa secretly decides that Clarke could shine brighter than the sun if she tried.)

 

Lexa never notices how enraptured Clarke is when she talks, the same way Lexa ignores the way she's memorized exactly how Clarke's footsteps sound when she runs up from behind Lexa to hug her tightly.

 

They spend almost half their time at each other's houses, Indra and Anya dubbing Clarke the sky girl for some reason they do not understand. It feels natural to have small stashes of each other's clothes in their closets.

 

(Clarke, by this point, is the one coming up with all their reckless ideas, whispering the plan of action excitedly to Lexa with a huge grin. One of these reckless ideas leads to Lexa falling off the handlebars of Clarke's new bike and scraping up her knees, but Lexa can't remember to feel the pain when Clarke applies the band-aids carefully and pronounces her cured with a sheepish smile.)

 

They like to climb onto Lexa's roof from the attic to look at the clouds drift by lazily and point out shapes. Lexa doesn't like being so far off the ground and sitting cross-legged on the roof with chipped paint, it feels scary, but Clarke likes it a lot, so Lexa goes anyways.

 

"Lex," Clarke would say sometimes, very seriously, nudging Lexa with her elbow, "This cloud looks like a raccoon." And Lexa would always reply, very seriously,

"I think it looks like a lion." This was where Lexa nudged Clarke back, harder.

"I think you look like a raccoon." Clarke would continue, starting to giggle as she bumps shoulders with Lexa, and Lexa would make circles around her eyes with her fingers and pout. 

 

Clarke always laughed by that point, because Lexa's raccoon imitation was always fantastic. 

 

Sometimes, when they sleepover at Lexa's house and neither of them can sleep, they climb up onto the roof again, all hushed giggles and bony elbows and whispered "I hope Indra doesn't wake up"s. She sits there, on the roof, sharing an old red blanket with Clarke. Clarke points out all the constellations that Jake had taught her, and Lexa hums contentedly. Clarke points them all out in the same order every time without fail, and Lexa always forgets to listen to Clarke in favour of watching her eyes flit excitedly across the sky.

 

They have more sleepovers with epic pillow forts that somehow always end in tickle wars and destruction. Abby scolds them sometimes, telling them that fourth graders should be mature, and Indra shares the sentiment, but with the shameless puppy eyes Clarke and Lexa use, they never have the heart for serious punishments.

 

(Clarke discovers a passion for drawing, mainly because she has an overwhelming need to find someway to keep fantastic moments on paper. She improves rapidly, sketching lazy afternoons away while Lexa tries to practice braiding Clarke's hair. Jake plays his music on an old cassette player and it floats up the stairs into their room, and they hum along contentedly.)

 

Every day after fifth-grade ends, they run to TonDC to order hot chocolate and sit there for an hour after their hot chocolate's finished just to talk. They always stay until it's rush hour and the people who just finished working come in and Gustus has to kick them out to make room. 

 

They journey to the lighthouse whenever they can, climbing 'their' tree and building sand castles on the beach, spinning adventures out of breathless laughter and brash war cries. They take to bringing Clarke's charcoal with them, drawing intricate warpaint on each other's faces. They drape the old red blanket over their shoulders and pretend they're superheroes, with flowing capes and dramatic action scenes. Clarke and Lexa, warriors, unafraid, ready to challenge the world. 

 

Lexa carves their names and the date into their special tree very seriously, also scribbling a candle("Candles represent a guiding light, Clarke,") on the lighthouse map so they could find each other in emergencies. 

 

(Clarke thinks that Lexa is her guiding light.)

 

When Lexa is scared on the first day of middle school, Clarke takes her hand and says brightly that everything will be an adventure. 

 

"It'll be fun, I promise," Clarke says. "I'll punch anyone that makes it not fun."

 

When summer comes after sixth grade, and the days bleed lazily into each other, they start to have late night talks on Clarke's bed. It's during one of these talks that Clarke admits to the ceiling of her bedroom that maybe she liked both guys and girls. When Lexa looks over, Clarke looks nervous, so Lexa rolls closer to hug her.

"That's okay." A slow exhale in the darkness.

"Thanks, Lexa."

 

It's seventh grade when Lexa huffs, annoyed, that she's never going to catch up to Clarke in height. Clarke smiles and marks Lexa's height an inch below her own on the chart (Abby's pride and joy) that is meticulously maintained.

"You're a giant," Lexa complains.

"The big friendly giant?" Clarke teases. Lexa's face splits into a grin without her asking it to.

 

For Clarke's birthday, Lexa saved up to buy Clarke a set of specially made graphite pencils and for Lexa's, Clarke gives her a dark green scarf. 

 

"You always complain that you're cold, Lex," Clarke says, hands on her hips, a mock glare. "Don't say that you don't like it."

"I do not," Lexa denies, running the soft fabric of the scarf over her fingers. 

"Lexa, you're lying." A small smile.

"Thank you for the scarf, Clarke." She loops the scarf in a loose knot around her neck and tugs at it self-consciously.

"What are best friends for?" Clarke's brows knit for a moment, and then she's reaching over to adjust the knot of the scarf. Lexa looks away and drops her hands to let Clarke fiddle with the knot. "There," She says finally, satisfied. "It was lopsided."

 

When eighth grade comes, Lexa was not ready for it. Clarke develops soft curves out of nowhere, and Lexa has to remind herself to breathe when Clarke tips her head back and laughs. She swallows the urge to stare at Clarke's lip freckle at random times and wonders why she didn't realize before that her best friend was pretty. Not just pretty, but beautiful. Stunning. Breathtakingly captivating. There's also a strange flush and warmth in her chest when she's around Clarke that's never been there before. Lexa asks Anya for advice on this and Anya only laughs.

 

There are boys now, boys. Clarke is particularly infatuated with one, one whose name Lexa doesn't allow herself to think because otherwise she feels thorny and angry and prickly. The boy Clarke likes has a stupid smile and hair like a mop and made Clarke a ridiculous necklace with a scrap metal pendant, which Clarke wears sometimes. It makes Lexa really regret getting Clarke a set of expendable pencils for her birthday instead of giving her something more memorable and personal.

 

Next time, she promises to herself, she'll get Clarke something better. Something that lasts for a long time. Nothing expendable. Maybe even something that could last forever.

 

Lexa isn't sure if anything could last forever.

 

Lexa is even less ready to have to spend sleepovers listening to Clarke talk about The Boy Who Must Not Be Named. It's immature, how affected she is, so Lexa tries to ignore it. Clarke occasionally talks about girls too, and Lexa feels even more prickly then, for some odd reason. She only shakes her head when Clarke tries to learn if Lexa has a crush.

She was also not ready to spend an entire afternoon trying to focus on Blade Runner with Clarke tucked neatly into her side. She can't help notice how practiced their dynamic is, twisting slightly to accommodate the other instinctively, fingers tangling in hair with ease.  
They murmur sarcastic movie commentary at each other and the evening passes fast, but not fast enough. Lexa is three thousand percent sure Clarke can easily hear her rapid heartbeat.

 

When Lexa triumphantly catches up in height to Clarke and then inches past Clarke, it's Clarke's turn to huff in annoyance and teasingly call Lexa the Big Friendly Giant. Lexa is euphoric to have a half inch advantage and constantly pats Clarke on the head. 

 

They're growing up, Lexa muses one sleepover, watching the peaceful rise and fall of Clarke's chest. Clarke's growing up. She's changing and it's oh so very fast but oh so very inevitable. Clarke's eyes are closed, eyelashes fluttering, legs tangled with Lexa, arms curled in front of her and almost touching Lexa's own. She looks incredibly wonderful, and Lexa wonders nervously in the quiet world of one am.

 

I don't want this to change. She wishes fervently. I don't want Clarke to grow too fast without me and leave me behind.

 

It ends when Jake dies. 

 

Lexa wanders down groggily at seven in the morning to help Jake make his specialty pancakes after yet another(the last) sleepover, saying a sleepy goodbye at the door when Jake tells her to tell Clarke that Abby needed to be picked up from an overnight hospital shift and to enjoy the pancakes. Lexa wanders back up the stairs to bring Clarke a plate of pancakes and laughs at Clarke's ridiculous bedhead. 

 

Clarke is on her way to put the syrup-sticky dish in the sink when the phone starts ringing insistently. She takes the phone from its receiver on the wall and murmurs a 'Griffin residence' into the speaker.

 

Lexa looks up from putting the milk back in the fridge when the plate drops, shattering on the floor. Lexa's by Clarke's side in a flash, carefully sweeping away the broken ceramic with a slippered foot, hugging Clarke and trying to figure out what happened as Clarke sobs into her shoulder. 

 

Lexa doesn't make out much between hugging Clarke close and rubbing circles on Clarke's back, but she catches enough to know.

 

A few weeks afterwards, Indra tells Lexa in her blunt, but compassionate way, that they were going to move.

 

Lexa puts off telling Clarke until the last second. On moving day, Lexa walks the route to Clarke's house, trying to come up with a good speech as her feet carry her there by muscle memory.

 

She sits on the edge of the bed beside Clarke and carefully explains, but only makes it halfway through her speech before she starts to cry. Clarke cries too, bittersweet, and the way Clarke buries her head in her hands helplessly makes Lexa feel like her heart was crumbling.

"Clarke," she says, "Clarke."

Something Lexa thinks could be fear flickers across Clarke's features.

"Sometimes," Clarke says slowly, hesitant. "Sometimes I think that everything will stay the same." Lexa frowns.

"That wouldn't be so bad, would it? I like right now." The 'we're still together' goes unsaid.

"You don't understand." Clarke says firmly(Lexa thinks that there was a time where she always understood). "I want things to change. I'm... I'm afraid of Arkadia Bay remaining stagnant and boring and I'm afraid that everyone trapped here will never escape and be anything more." 

"Not everyone," Lexa murmurs, voice gentle. Clarke raises her head, taken aback. "Not you."

"Sure, but you don't care, do you? You're not exactly sticking around to find out."

"I do care, Clarke."

Clarke is slightly terrified and electrified by the intensity she finds in Lexa's eyes.

 

Their kiss is soft and tentative, Lexa's hand gently cradling the back of Clarke's neck. It feels like an eternity has passed in their own, soft world by the time they pull apart.

"Don't." Her voice cracks. "You're leaving."

Lexa nods, hands shaking. After a long moment, she rises. Clarke remains still, on the edge of the bed.

"May we meet again."

Clarke listens to the door ghost open and shut, eyes shut.

 

Lexa doesn't even look back.

 

It feels like betrayal.

 

Lexa cries, sobbing in the backseat to Seattle. Indra and Anya offer a comforting silence. 

 

Clarke cries, heartbroken and alone. Abby leans against the closed door and tries to find something to say, but never musters the strength to come in.

 

It is only the summer before high school.


	2. Chapter 2

It's a cold morning, crisp with the signature October nostalgia that clings to Arkadia Bay. 

Lexa hefts her backpack over her shoulder, grabs her duffle from out of the car trunk, and hugs Anya farewell.

It's a quick affair, with exchanged mutters, neither sister willing to linger and be vulnerable. 

Anya's car pulls away quickly, Anya sparing a last glance in the rearview mirror. Lexa stands there and stares after Anya for a good minute.

 

She forces herself to move, frowning slightly at the homesick daze that had overtaken her.

 

Lexa notes the 'Missing Persons' posters pasted everywhere around Polis during her journey to the administrative office. A handsome boy with dark skin and a beaming grin stares out from the identical posters, which overlap and cover the posters for the athletic clubs. Lexa considers briefly, before taking one and tucking it into her backpack. She's packed lightly, just her backpack of school supplies and a duffle containing her essentials. Her room back in Seattle is spartan, devoid of personal mementos, and Lexa doesn't see why her Polis dorm room should be any different.

 

The commons are deserted, the students most likely off enjoying their last day before school started. 

 

Administration gives her the key with a bland smile, and hands her a pamphlet that passed for a student handbook to go with it. She'll read it when she gets to the dorm room. She thanks the lady at the front desk quietly and studies the map on the pamphlet briefly. The girls dorm is on the other side of the campus, on the west side.

 

When she pushes open the door and slips inside, the girl's dorm is dark and musty, devoid of activity. Lexa finds her room with ease, noting the message scrawled on the whiteboard outside. 'Keep Out' is in a harsh red and has been circled several times. Ignoring the message, Lexa tests the doorknob and finds it unlocked.

 

She's greeted with an unexpected view.

 

The room is trashed- the NASA posters belong to her roommate has been ripped to shreds and littered around the room, the words SLUT and CRIPPLE have been spray painted on the walls. The red bedsheets on the other bed has been soaked in what smells like beer. Clothes, a laptop, what looks to be a drone, are all haphazardly thrown in a heap. 

"That's Ontari saying welcome." An unfamiliar voice says at the entrance. Turning back, Lexa stares at the girl leaning in the doorway. Her backpack is casually slung over her right shoulder, left strap slipping off.

The girl is clearly favouring her right leg, shifting her weight several times as the tense silence stretches between them. A bulky leg brace is an unwelcome burden on the girl's left. 

"Lexa Woods." Lexa offers.

"Raven Reyes. Are you new to Arkadia? You look sorta familiar." 

"Sort of," she answers. 

Lexa moves aside to let Raven in. Raven is unaffected by the carnage, dropping her backpack by her bed, shrugging off her red jacket and gestures to the wreck. 

"I have a rivalry with a girl here." She says nonchalantly. "It's nothing."

Lexa moves to clean up the strewn debris before Raven does. Lexa starts stripping the bed of its soaked sheets as Raven tries to salvage her clothing.

"Would you mind if I asked who with?" Raven pauses for a moment to stare at the back of Lexa's head.

"Ontari Wilds, you should stay away from that vindictive jerk." The words are processed silently. "It's seven thirty," Raven says abruptly. "I'll treat you to dinner at the local diner after we clean this up." Lexa is struck by a vivid image of her younger self and Clarke, asking Gustus for extra marshmallows in their hot chocolate.

"TonDC has good food." Lexa says in lieu of a confirmation. 

After an hour of cleaning up the mess and unpacking Lexa's belongings, Raven speaks up again.

"I'm going to grab a bite at Ton now, you coming or not?"

"No thank you, I think I'll eat somewhere else." Raven shrugs.

"Your loss." Lexa doesn't look up as Raven slips out the door.

 

Raven returns while Lexa is in the cafeteria taking advantage of her Polis student ID. Lexa nods in greeting when Raven briefly looks up from the detective drama playing on her laptop. An unfamiliar girl is sitting besides Raven, sharing earbuds and crunching popcorn. 

 

"Octavia." She says, not even bothering to look up from the laptop screen. "Pleasure to meet you."

 

"Lexa Woods." Lexa says again, stiffly.

 

Octavia Blake leaves when eleven rolls around and the curfew bell tolls, kissing Raven on the cheek and shutting the door too loudly on her way out.

 

Lexa walks down to the dimly lit shared bathroom to take a hurried shower, the jets of water sputtering and splattering against her skin with a pathetic effort. Time seems a bit distorted in the dimly lit bathroom, and Lexa rubs her shampoo into her scalp as fast as possible.  
\--- _  
She's in a cafe. She already knows how this will end._

_She's sitting across from Costia, their coffee and history homework spread across the table._

_Costia smiles. "Cheer up, Lex."_

_"Don't call me that." Lexa grumbles, slouching further in the starbucks booth. Costia tilts her head, pouting. "Lexa is fine."_

_"Can I call you Lexie, then?"_

_"Just Lexa."_

_"What, you have a thing against it?" Costia leans further across the table, whispers as if she's about the tell Lexa a secret, "You let me die but you won't let me call you nicknames? How selfish of you."_

_Lexa drags her gaze slowly up from the cup of coffee in front of her, like always, and Costia's face is splattered with blood, like always.  
_

Lexa wakes up, heart pounding and sheets cold with sweat. 3:58, Raven's alarm clock flashes, dim green glow marred by the new crack in the display screen. Quietly rummaging through her duffle, Lexa tugs on running shorts and a tank top. She pulls her sneakers on and does a quick warm up stretch on the steps of the dorm.

 

Polis is different in the dark. The streetlamps' light illuminates glowing cones on the concrete path. Taking a deep breath, she starts to jog. Her footsteps are quiet, small thumps, hissed breath punctuating the stiflingly silent night. Her legs carry her out of Polis, to the left and towards the harbour. Lexa focuses on heading downtown, as she sails past the familiar yet not buildings. They all look a bit changed, a bit older, a bit more worn down in the glimmering half-dark.

 

Lexa follows the familiar old routes, heart twisting as she passes Arkadia Elementary. She thinks of Clarke for a second, a nostalgic smile almost appearing.

 

She pushes Clarke out of her head and tries to think of nothing but the comforting rhythm her feet are drumming out. She feels it working, relaxing her.

 

Breath in, breath out. Lexa's focus narrows down to the simple staccato. She's near TonDC, she notes in the back of her head. The sign, normally lit up in neon is the same dim grey as everything else.

 

Panting, Lexa slows to a walk. Her mouth is dry, her legs are shaky, and she suddenly regrets running impulsively all the way to the harbour. 

She shouldn't have pushed herself so hard. The last time she ran was for the track meets at Seattle High a summer ago, with Costia-

 

Lexa takes a seat on the ground shakily, leaning back against Gustus' parked Volkswagen Beetle. The Beetle was still the same shade of creamy yellow that she remembered. Lexa briefly wonders if Gustus still kept spare candles brought from his apartment above the TonDC in the glove compartment.

 

Footsteps.

 

She ducks instinctively into the shadow of Gustus' car.

 

It couldn't be Gustus, the gait is too light and irregular, but it couldn't be anyone else. She presses herself closer to the Beetle. If someone caught her breaking curfew before school even officially started-

 

The flick of a lighter.

 

She allows herself one peek.

 

Cage Wallace. The spoiled son of Dante Wallace and heir to most of the land in Arkadia bay, pacing around a diner parking lot at four am and taking deep drags from a cigarette.

 

He's on the right side of the parking lot, his back to her, if she could sneak around these cars she could easily get to the exit without drawing his attention. Lexa is about to start out from behind the beetle when she sees another approaching figure.

"You called me here to talk business?" Cage's voice, oily and confident in contrast to his earlier nervousness.

"I came here to tell you to stop." A female sounding voice, low and surprisingly, familiar. Lexa frowns, trying to place the voice. "You hired Emerson to threaten me, didn't you?"

"You have any proof, sweetheart? I thought not."

"You're insecure. I know you took Wells, and you don't want me to tell, or your father is going to know about your... Mistakes." The flick of the lighter.

"Wells? I thought he was living the life in LA by now. Pity he didn't wait for you."

"That's a load of bullshit, Cage. I know you wanted to hurt Wells, because I know Wells saw you buying drugs. He took photos. If you don't tell me where he is, I'll give them to the police, and not even your family's money can save you."

"Oh yeah?" A metallic click. "Lucky for me I can shut you up." Something thunderous sounds, almost like fireworks but more like a gunshot- Lexa lurches from behind the Beetle belatedly, hand flinging out-

 

She registers a splatter of blood through the dark, and then the world is inverting on her, head spinning and something close to wind rushing past.

 

Hissed breath is harsh in her throat, burning as Lexa tips backwards, heel slipping as she misses her stride, she's a block away from the TonDC.

 

Her head reels, she feels like she's been underwater and her chest is about to burst, but she staggers forwards. 

 

The gun. Cage.

 

Lexa makes it to the parking lot, only to find it empty. 

 

Had the whole thing been in her head? She's shaking, about to turn back and call it a night, pretend she hadn't hallucinated someone's murder,

 

Footsteps.

 

The footsteps are close, erratic. It's Cage's gait. Why would he come back? The parking lot was spotless, whoever he was talking to must have escaped.

 

Cage paces, the lighter sparking on and off with a small, flinty click.

 

A silent pause.

"You called me here to talk business?" Cage's voice, smooth. Lexa blanches.

"I came here to tell you to stop." The female sounding voice. "You hired Emerson to threaten me, didn't you?"

"You have any proof, sweetheart?" A pause. "I thought not." She had some sort of vision, Lexa realizes. She hallucinated this and everything is playing out the same, except this time she has a chance to stop it.

"You're insecure. I know you took Wells, and you don't want me to tell, or your father is going to know about your... Mistakes." The flick of the lighter.

"Wells? I thought he was living the life in LA by now. Pity he didn't wait for you."

"That's a load of bullshit, Cage. I know you wanted to hurt Wells, because I know Wells saw you buying drugs. He took photos. If you don't tell me where he is, I'll give them to the police, and not even your family's money can save you." 

"Oh yeah?" A metallic click, probably the gun's safety. "Lucky for me-"

 

Lexa, taking advantage of Cage's focus on waving his gun around carelessly, slams her fist through the window of the Beetle, pain and glass flaring. 

The wail of the car alarm blares, and the lights flick on from above the TonDC.

The gun goes off and hits the wall of the TonDC. Cage swears loudly, and flees. When Lexa peeks out from behind the beetle, the other person is nowhere in sight.

 

Lexa runs.

\---

Raven startles awake when she crashes through the door and begins peeling off her running clothes hurriedly.

"It's like, five," she slurs, voice heavy with sleep. "What the fuck."

Lexa shakes her head and sits down heavily on the edge of her bed. Raven watches her out of the corner of her eye, suddenly wary.

"Why's your hand bleeding?"

"Long story." Her voice is wavery, cracks on the last syllable. Raven looks at the bloody hand for a long moment before reaching for the smartphone on her bedside table and quick dialling someone.

"Hey O, code daisy."

\---

Octavia stumbles in with bleary eyes and a plastic seven eleven bag.

 

"It's five am," she starts, before pausing to gawk. "Jesus fuck girl, that looks like crap."

"Thank you." Lexa says, mostly out of not having anything to say.

 

Octavia stares at her hand a little longer before taking a seat besides Lexa and dumping first aid supplies out of the bag. 

 

"You don't have to tell us what happened," Raven says, ignoring Octavia's "Um, yes she does", "But I'm going to get a crappy new roomie if you get suspended, so you better have an excuse for that."

"I went jogging," Lexa starts, "and I was taking a break at TonDC when I heard Cage Wallace approaching..."

 

For some reason, she only skims over the conversation between the stranger and Cage, vaguely mentioning accusations of drugs causing the confrontation.

 

"I... I should probably stay out of this, but Cage was about to kill someone and... Somehow I stopped him. If I could get proof, I could stop Cage from going after that someone again."

 

Octavia cleans the cuts while Lexa explains, digs out the one piece of glass with steady hands and eyebrow tweezers. Lexa grits her teeth when the bandages become blood speckled within seconds.

 

Octavia notices and sighs. 

"Clarke was always better at this shit," she mutters. "She could probably snap her fingers and destroy an entire mountain."

Clarke.

"You know Clarke?" Lexa blurts. 

"Who doesn't?" Raven scoffs. "She used to go here, was friends with the most popular guy in school. Got expelled last year for kicking Cage Wallace's sorry ass on school campus, which is weird because he spends most of his time pretending he didn't flunk out of college on the other side of Arkadia."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Y'know," Raven says, "We were pretty cool with Clarke. Ever since her friend Wells disappeared, she's been paranoid that the Wallaces had something to do with it. I could ask her to meet up with you, I think she'd help you find some dirt on Wallace."

"That would be great." Raven pauses, frowns.

"Wait, how do you know her? You said you were new to the town." 

"That doesn't matter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be honest here, I find this chapter a bit stiff. Please leave me feedback about this if you have criticism! 
> 
> (The next chapter may be somewhat delayed. I'm really just aiming for 2000 words or so of a decently written well paced chapter. You're going to have at least a chapter a week, though!)


	3. Chapter 3

Her first day at Polis consists mainly of going over the syllabus for her classes and trying not to fall asleep. She hadn't been able to sleep at all after... After what happened. At this point, Lexa just wants a nap.

Her last class of the day is with her literature teacher, but they're nowhere to be found.

So are most of the students, if Lexa had to be honest. She only arrived just before the bell but the classroom is only filled with two or three people. The desks are arranged in a U shape, with her in the back, directly facing a small podium. Her teacher's actual desk is further off in a corner of the room. 

She glances at the clock. It's a minute before three fifty. The teacher is late.

\---  
_  
Lexa is absolutely soaked, clothes bitter-cold and clinging to her skin with the weight. She's curled up on rain slicked grass as thunder cracks above her. Pine needles are scattered over her, no doubt shaken loose by the strong wind. She staggers to her feet, brushing strands of hair out of her face._

_[You need to get to the lighthouse. You'll be safe there.]_

_Lexa turns, looking for the speaker, but all she sees is storm._

_Thunder cracks again, closely followed by another jagged edge of lightning. A lighthouse, the lighthouse, is above her. A massive storm looms above the lighthouse, and Arkadia Bay. Somewhere behind her, wood cracks and a tree shudders to the ground, narrowly missing Lexa._

_[Go to the lighthouse. Please.]_

__

\---

The bell rings, harsh and loud, and Lexa almost falls out of her seat.

She's in Polis, she's in Polis, it's three fifty and she's in her classroom and there are more people now and they are all staring, staring-

Lexa flushes and hurriedly tugs out her binder from the backpack leaning against her leg, normally nimble fingers fumbling and catching on the zipper.

The teacher clears their throat.

"Welcome to Advanced Literature, you can call me Mr. Pike." he says, and the class turns back to him. "For today, we're just going to introduce ourselves, go over the syllabus, and have a quick class debate over the meaning of names. Who wants to start first and tell us their name, what you think of it, and what you did during the summer?"

A short girl with long, dark hair scoffs. 

"Do we have to? Who cares about names?" Pike turns slightly to address the student.

"Names are powerful things, Ontari. A name is what you are known by. A name is a word, and a name defines you. Why don't you start us off?" Ontari scowls.

"Ontari Wilds. I went to New York over the summer."

"My name is Echo, and well, it means echo. I visited my cousins during the summer."

"Bellamy Blake." The next person says. He tips his chair back onto it's hind legs, one foot propped on his knee, pen tucked behind his ear and disappearing into a mass of curls. 

The boy besides Bellamy does't realize he's next for a few moments.

"Oh! Uh, I'm Jasper. I think it's a cool name. And... Uh, I mainly just hung out with my friends at the skatepark." 

"Monty," the next boy says quietly. "I don't mind my name, and I hung out with Jasper."

"My name's Emori, and I didn't do anything over the summer." Ontari scoffs. 

"Yeah right, she was busy being a fucking slut and hanging off of Murphy all summer." She hisses to Echo, who gives a bored shrug. Emori rolled her eyes and continued drumming her pencil against her desk. 

"I haven't seen you around before," Pike says loudly, looking at Lexa. "You're a transfer student, aren't you."

"Yes, I am. My name is Lexa. No nicknames please."

Pike pauses for a second, looks at her with interest. 

Lexa has the feeling that he is looking more at her bandaged knuckles than anything. She tucks them under her other hand.

"Welcome to Polis, then." Pike keeps on looking at her for a long moment, before opening the binder on the podium.

"Get ready to take notes, everyone," he says, shuffling a stack of bright blue paper, "I'm not handing these out a second time so you should write this down on a separate piece of paper."

\---

"-don't forget to submit your poems to the Polis Poets contest by the end of the week, the theme is new beginnings and the winner will fly out with me to San Francisco where we will perform the poem in several Slam Poetry contests, it's great exposure for any young writer-" 

The bell cuts Pike off and he sighs at the students hurrying to pack up and scram. 

"Class dismissed," he says. Lexa is on her feet in a second, more than ready to return to her dorm and take a good nap.

"Lexa, I see you pretending not to see me. I need to speak to you."

Lexa pauses, feeling suddenly like a very small prey rodent caught in Pike's talons, and turns to face him.

"Yes Mr. Pike?" 

"I have a special assignment for you," he starts, drumming his fingers against the edge of the podium thoughtfully, "The Polis Paper needs an article about some sort of vandalism at a local diner. Since you're new to the area, this is a great way to interact with the community... And of course, you'll receive extra credit. What do you say?"

Lexa bites her lip, keeps her gaze even.

"Thank you for the offer Mr. Pike, but I think there are better people for the job. I'm still settling in at Polis." Pike shrugs.

"Very well." Lexa lingers for a stiff moment, turns back to the door and slips out.

Making her way out of Blackwell's main building, she heads across campus, skirting the group of skaters in the courtyard and ignoring the crowd of people gathered around what looks to be Raven flying a drone.

Lexa pulls short, however, when she sees the front steps of the girls dorm occupied by Ontari. Ontari's sprawled all over the entrance, occupying an impressive amount of space for such a tiny being.

"If it isn't the teacher's pet," Ontari sneers.

"Ontari," Lexa greets, and steps right over her. Ontari gapes as Lexa turns the doorknob. 

"You did not just do that," She growls. Lexa sighs internally.

"I just did, Ontari." Ontari bristles, but someone calls her name from across the courtyard and Ontari turns, distracted.

Lexa slams the door behind her in an uncharacteristic burst of frustration, ignoring how the girls in the hall turn to stare at her.

She opens her dorm door slightly softer, a bit of regret for her stormy entrance. 

She's greeted with an unexpected view.

A blue haired stranger is sprawled across her bed, reading a science magazine(Raven's, probably), scruffy combat boots flopped on the floor, except-

Except it's not a stranger, it's Clarke, it's Clarke and oh god her hair is different and her face is different but Lexa would know those eyes anywhere and there's the freckle above her lip,

Clarke shifts, sits up a little, fixes Lexa with a stare that simultaneously sets her nerves on fire and makes her want to preemptively roll into a coffin and be thrown into the sea.

"Lex." she says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this update is 2 months later than promised because A) I'm a filthy, filthy liar and I deeply apologize and B) I had 1.4 chapters written in Clarke's POV that was a giant fucking angst fest but in light of that whole Nov. 8 mess I figured it wouldn't hurt to actually keep some consistency in this story and make shit a lil happier 
> 
> hence, this chap being a lot shorter than I would like. You can probably expect around 2000-3000 words every update.
> 
> kudos & feedback are highly appreciated! if anyone knows how to tab on ao3 other than methodical spacing please tell me bc this format is upsetting my delicate victorian sensibilities

**Author's Note:**

> Kudo & Comment if you liked it or have some feedback!


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